By July 1932 the Dow Jones Industrial Average dropped 89 percent below its 1929 peak, and by early 1933, twelve million workers, 25 percent of the workforce, were unemployed. Many Americans took to the rails, searched for a living they couldn’t find at home. Others lived in the streets. With each passing year, food lines grew longer. And with despair came violence. In Los Angeles County Mexican immigrants were deported, and demonstrators were killed at Ford’s production plant in Dearborn, Michigan. Farmers slaughtered cattle, dumped milk, and demanded better prices.
When Will O’Shaughnessy saw the plight of others, he knew he had reasons to be thankful. But he was affected, too. The O’Shaughnessies scrimped on the ever decreasing income that flowed from the dealership. Will sold few cars and his customers jerry-rigged their repairs. To boost his income, he installed lightning rods on Iowa County’s high barns.
As a practical lot, farmers found it less expensive to avoid a loss rather than pay insurance premiums, so while Will’s insurance business plunged, his lightning rod business grew, but ever so slowly. It was dangerous work — a job that most shunned, even in these hard times — but work that Will embraced. He felt at home on the farms, loved the road time with Fanny, and after many years climbing silos and repairing rails high in his father’s hayloft, he knew no fear when hanging off a barn roof.
Besides, it let him keep Ed Spencer a little longer. He hated the thought of letting Ed go, but knew it was just a matter of time.
And Mary mentioned Ed, too. “Has Ed said anything about marriage? I heard he proposed to Nancy Sherman last week, and that they’re getting married this fall.”
Will had noticed that Ed had been somewhat distracted lately. “He hasn’t said anything.”
“It’s not a good time to start a family.”
“Love is blind.”
“Have you told him you’ll have to let him go?”
“I’m trying to avoid it. Maybe I’ll get more barn jobs.”
“And maybe this awful depression will be over, but not anytime soon, I’m afraid. You must warn him, Will.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Catherine shuffled into the kitchen, and at a good time, Will thought.
“Daddy, I had a bad dream in the hospital.”
“But it was just a dream.”
“I was scared.”
“Yes, a hospital can be scary, but you’re better now.”
Sharon and Ruby drifted into the kitchen, but not without words. “Ruby, you did so take my gold necklace.”
“You said I could wear it. Don’t be a spoil sport.”
“Mamma, I said she could try it on, not keep it.”
“Whoa, don’t bring your problems to me. You work them out.”
Will eyed his older daughters and waited for the resolution. He knew that Mary showed good sense when it came to their girls. And he knew what was coming.
“Why, it’s not even gold,” Ruby said. “It’s only yellow paint.”
Sharon grabbed for the necklace, but Ruby was quicker. “Spoil sport,” she called.
Mary turned back to her stove. “In five minutes I’ll be done with these pancakes. If you’re still arguing, I’ll have myself a new necklace, and I don’t care whether it’s gold or paint.”
“But, Mother,” Sharon said.
Mary ignored Sharon’s plea and turned the cakes.
Sharon glared at her mother’s back, but Will knew that wouldn’t bring her relief. Mary was resolute when it came to managing her girl’s petulance.
For a few moments Sharon continued to frown, but when Mary paid no attention, Sharon’s anger dissipated and she proposed a practical solution. “Okay,” she said, “you wear it until after breakfast, but then I get it back.”
“I’ll wear it all day,” Ruby said, but when Mary scowled in her direction, she relented. “Okay, after breakfast.”
Will wasn’t surprised that Ruby, without much enthusiasm for the bargain, agreed. The girls lost more than one pretty trinket when they wouldn’t solve their own problems. His Mary was a smart woman. She sure knew how to stop the bickering, and with so little effort.
But Catherine hardly noticed. It seemed that her mind was on other things. “Daddy, I still dream about the puppet man.”
“Puppet man?” Will supposed she referred to the Punch and Judy stories he read at night. “They’re not scary. They’re just dolls, my dear.”
“They can be scary, Will.” Mary dropped a buckwheat cake onto his plate. “For a little girl. They do pound on each other. Maybe it’s best that you not read those stories to Catherine, not just yet anyhow.”
“I don’t think Punch and Judy stories scare her,” Sharon said.
“Oh?” Mary said.
“I think it’s the real puppet man,” Ruby said.
“What’s that?” Mary said.
“Ruby,” Sharon hissed. But it was too late.
“What’s this real puppet man?” Will said.
“The one at the circus,” Ruby said. “He looked awful.” She grimaced. “His face was all wood and tin.”
“He was sad,” Catherine said.
“We weren’t going to tell,” Sharon said. “Grandma told us not to go to the sideshows, but we disobeyed.”
“But we thought you wouldn’t mind,” Ruby said. “We talked about it. It was just a puppet show.”
“And was it?” Mary said.
Ruby fidgeted. “Well, not quite. Not like Punch and Judy.”
“Tell me all about it,” Mary said as she turned to her oldest and most reluctant daughter.
Sharon broke down in tears, but she confessed all. She told how Grandma had warned them not to go to sideshows, and then she pointed her finger at Ruby. “She bought the first ticket.”
Ruby remained silent, but Will saw her eyes spit daggers at her older sister.
Sharon told how the puppet man was big, how he danced and laughed and even sang if you gave him money. And she said that Catherine gave him a penny, told how Catherine wandered away when they were on the Ferris wheel. “I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone,” Sharon said. And she broke into a dismal crying spell.
“Go on,” Mary said.
Sharon caught her breath and told how Mr. Heinzelman found Catherine with the puppet man. How Heinzelman was mad and sent the puppet man away. “I know we shouldn’t have done it,” Sharon said. “It was my fault. I’m the oldest and should have stopped them.” She glared at Ruby. “We should have obeyed Grandma.”
“Tell me about the puppet man,” Will said. “What did he look like?”
Mary turned to Catherine. “Did he scare you?”
“When he yanked me. But I was mostly scared when Mr. Heinzelman hollered.”
“When he yanked you?” Mary said.
“When he pulled me away from that naughty man.”
“Did he hurt you?” Mary said.
“No. Puppet man was nice,” Catherine said.
“Mr. Heinzelman didn’t think so,” Ruby said. “He was mad as he chased him away.”
Will persisted. “Tell me about him. Everything you can remember.”
That night in bed, Will said, “Do you think it could have been Jesse?”
“Not likely. There are lots of wounded veterans out there these days, them and other poor vagrants. It could have been anyone.”
“But it could have been him. The description fits.”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
Will wasn’t about to give up. The next morning he called Mary’s mother. She told him, “I don’t know who brought Heinzelman’s Circus to town, but I’ll ask around. Someone must know.”
“Do that, Mary, then get back to me.”